Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

F rek. Frek. Frek.

Q'tar swore under his breath at Julie's shocked statement. How could he have been so foolish? The device which camouflaged his appearance was concealed inside his wrist com, and he should never have removed it. But after a night holding Julie in his arms, his body had been on fire with longing. He'd foolishly decided to relieve his aching cock in the shower - and even more foolishly, he'd wanted to be in his true form while he thought of her.

It had been a remarkably unsatisfactory experience - he wanted her, not his hand. And as soon as those big brown eyes traveled down his body to where his anatomy differed significantly from human males, he was hard and aching once again.

"What are you?"

Her voice trembled on the questions, and his jaw clenched.

The protective instincts that had grown stronger each moment he spent with her warred with the years of training to maintain absolute secrecy. He could see the betrayal on her face and the memory of her trust in him the previous night, the way she had nestled in his arms, twisted like a blade in his gut.

"Tell me the truth." She backed away, but her chin lifted in that defiant gesture he'd come to admire. "All of it."

He reached for his wrist com, then decided the damage was done and reached for the towel instead, wrapping it around his waist.

"I am not from your world."

A choked noise escaped, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"That's pretty obvious." Her eyes narrowed. "Was anything you told me true? Did you come from Spartan Security? Did Agent Carlson hire you?"

"I really do work for them and Carlson really did hire me."

"But why? Why are you here?"

He hesitated, but the thought of lying to her now felt wrong in ways he couldn't explain. He would tell her as much of the truth as he could, even if it meant she rejected him.

"It's rather a long story. Perhaps we should sit?"

She turned and stalked out of the bathroom, perching on one corner of the bed and watching warily as he joined her, the ancient springs creaking under his weight.

"I am from a planet called Behran, a long way from here. I grew up alone." The words scraped his throat. "No family. No clan."

Her breath caught, but she didn't move closer.

"I learned to survive on the streets. I had to fight or starve." He flexed his hands, remembering the desperate scramble for food, the brutal lessons he'd learned before he started winning. "I was rounded up in a raid on the slums, but I didn't make it easy. I thought I was going to be locked up for the rest of my life because of the destruction I caused. Instead the authorities saw… potential and handed me over to the government."

He did his best to keep his face impassive as the memories rushed back - training grounds stained with blood, missions that left no traces. They had trained him to kill - clean, precise, professional.

"I became what they needed me to be. I even believed I was doing the right thing. Until one day I didn't believe that any longer."

Her fingers twisted in the quilt. "And then?"

"I retired. They had paid me well and I built a huge, impressive villa. But it was full of empty rooms. An empty life."

The stark white walls of his home on his planet flashed through his mind - pristine, sterile, meaningless. He'd thought it would bring him peace. It only brought loneliness.

"How did you go from that to working for Spartan Security?"

"I wasn't happy in my retirement, but I did not want to return to my previous occupations. Spartan offered another option. The owner Cerberus is aware of my… origins, but he is quite happy to use my skills."

He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to tell her everything - about his government's involvement, about the real reason he'd taken this assignment - but he couldn't stand the thought of frightening her. The partial truth would have to be enough.

She nodded slowly, her face thoughtful. He breathed a sigh of relief that she now seemed more curious than afraid. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her close as he had during the night, but that comfort was lost to him now.

"What did your government need you to be?" she asked softly.

"An assassin. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what they needed."

He couldn't entirely conceal his bitterness as he braced himself for her revulsion, her rejection. The morning light caught the tears that glistened in her eyes, and his chest constricted.

But then she leaned towards him, closing the space between them as her hand touched his face again.

"I'm so sorry."

Her lips brushed his - soft, warm, questioning - and the touch jolted through him like an electric current. He froze, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, the wood creaking under his strength. The urge to claim her blazed through his blood, primal and demanding.

Her fingers traced along his jaw with a feather light touch, exploring the texture of his no-longer-human skin. The gentle touch broke something inside him, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.

Her other hand found his chest, palm flat against his thundering heart. The simple contact stripped away years of control, leaving him raw and exposed.

"That's why your heart sounds different, isn't it?"

"Hearts," he corrected. "I have two."

Both of them beating for her. He wanted her. More than any mission. More than duty. More than honor. But how could he keep her safe if his feelings clouded his judgment?

"You came here to protect me?" she whispered.

"Yes."

He wanted to reach for her but the weight of his secrets held him back. The other reason for his presence on Earth. The truth about this assignment. Each secret stood between them like a wall.

"Thank you."

She kissed him again, her mouth shy but eager, and he gripped the bed even harder. Something snapped but he ignored it, fighting the urge to give in to his need.

Her mouth faltered when he didn't respond and she drew back, her pretty mouth quivering. The loss of her touch cut through him like a blade as she started to pull away.

"I'm sorry, I thought you felt… That you wanted…"

She looked so lost, so hurt, that his control shattered. He caught her face between his hands, his blue fingers stark against her pale skin. Her pulse fluttered beneath his touch, rapid and delicate.

"Look at me," he ordered and her eyes rose to his, so vulnerable his hearts ached. "Never doubt that I want you. So much that my body is on fire. You are perfect."

He traced his thumb across her bottom lip, memorizing its softness. "So beautiful. So brave."

Her breath caught, a small shudder running through her delicate frame, but then she was kissing him again, the softest, most delicious touch. He kissed her back, trying to show her without words how much she affected him, how much he treasured her. Her tongue brushed lightly against his, sending sparks flying through his body, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

He tugged her closer, his hands sliding down her back to her hips as he pulled her onto his lap. His towel gaped open, his aching cock trapped against the warmth of her body, and he groaned into her mouth.

"You're so big. So different," she said shyly as she looked down at his cock. "Can I touch you?"

"God, yes."

The words burst out before he had a chance to reconsider. He tried to take them back but she was already reaching for him, her small soft finger exploring the ridges along his length, and he groaned again. "This isn't wise, m'shka."

"Yes it is. I need to feel alive, and you make me feel that way. Please."

No. He couldn't give in to his desire. Not while there were still secrets between them. But neither could he let her think he didn't desire her with every fiber of his being. He tried to summon the will to pull away but instead he found his arms wrapping around her, drawing her even closer as he kissed her again.